The Meeting of Silence
by ceasarette
Summary: The name grates on Emma now the way it never did before, but she takes that irritation and uses it as fuel to the familiar fire that was slowly coming to life.


Emma wondered why she was not surprised to see the tall figure standing in the middle of the deserted field. She was surprised however, when she realized that she ended up here, when she has not thought about Henry's castle for months. She watched Regina for a long time, wondering if the mayor - is she even the mayor anymore - knows that she was there, or if Regina would disappear in a cloud of purple smoke again when she caught Emma. Finally, Emma could not stand the tension she worked herself up to and walked towards the other woman. She made a reasonable amount of noise to let Regina know she was not alone anymore. Emma was certain that Regina had a scathing remark waiting for her, so it threw her off when Regina stayed resolutely silent when she stopped beside her. The only notice Regina gave her was the slight shift of her shoulder.

The blonde was starting to think she had unknowingly turned herself invisible when Regina finally spoke. "It took him three days to work up the courage to use the slide on his own." Regina finally turned to Emma as she spoke, not meeting her eyes, but making sure Emma was listening. "There was a smaller slide there," she indicated at the patch of land with a small hill. "He loved to slide, but he never went without me. He would sit on my lap, and would beg me not to let go, his little hands squeezing mine as we slid down. When he said he was ready to go on his own, I almost told him no. But he was so determined, so hopeful that I couldn't bear to tell that him that those times with him on that slide was the best part of my day." Emma felt regret squeeze her heart at missing that period of her son's life. Resentment bubbled up inside her, and she opened her mouth, ready and eager to hurt Regina as much as she hurt her. The bitter retort never made it past her lips, there was no malice in Regina's face. She was not crying, but her eyes were red, and there was a hint of exhaustion, of resignation there that stopped Emma cold.

She never claimed to have ever known Regina, despite everything they have been through. She thought she had the other woman figured out, but every time she thought she was close, she discovers another hidden layer until she just gave up. So although she wanted to refute the mounting evidence against Regina, she also knew that the other woman has another life - other lives - that Emma could never hope to understand. Mary Margaret and David - her parents - kept reminding her of that. But Emma recognizes this Regina now, and she sighed in relief because she knows this Regina. This was the Regina she first met, the worried mother of a precocious ten-year-old runaway. And Emma realized that this was the Regina that mattered. Because despite everything, despite cursing her parents and the rest of Storybrooke, Regina had always done right by Henry.

The realization shook Emma, and she almost forgot that the other woman was there. A piece of the puzzle fell into place and her mind raced at the picture it was starting to form. She owed Regina an apology, a real one. Regina had awkwardly apologized last night, for snapping at her, and Emma would be damned if she couldn't do the same for something far worse than snapping. She started to open her mouth, when another thought registered.

"It's Cora, isn't it? She's here. In Storybrooke." Emma gasped, the words filling her whole body with a combination of fear and anger. She felt both guilty and gratified when she saw Regina tense at the name, her eyes shining with something wilder that what Emma was feeling, before Regina regained control of her emotions.

"The thought has crossed my mind." Regina acknowledged. She sounded more relaxed than the situation warranted, which made Emma wonder exactly when Regina figured it out.

"How?" She knew that Cora had wanted to come to Storybrooke, but considering how long it took her and Mary Margaret to get back, how difficult it was, Emma thought they had time before they needed to be worried. Apparently, she was wrong.

"Miss Swan, you found your way back. Did you really think my mother, who has been practicing magic my entire life would not?" As much as Emma welcomed the bite in Regina's tone, she suddenly remembered how the other woman whispered her name last night.

"Why?" Emma wondered when she was reduced to single words. "Why is she doing this, Regina?" She cried loudly when Regina did not respond.

"I don't know why, Miss Swan." Regina said calmly, dismissively.

The name grates on Emma now the way it never did before, but she takes that irritation and uses it as fuel to the familiar fire that was slowly coming to life. "No! You know why, Regina! Why is she here? What does she want?"

Emma was taken aback when Regina suddenly faced her. They have stood like this before, in the middle of an argument, but Regina was different this time. The familiar smirk, the malice, was gone from Regina's face. She realized the last time she saw that was before Henry's coma. "My mother hates me, Miss Swan. She has my whole life. I suppose she came here to finish what she started, what she couldn't do before. She's come to destroy me."

When Emma was younger, she thought she was an accident. She thought that was why they gave her up for adoption, because her parents made a mistake and they didn't want her. But when she saw her nursery in the castle back at the other land, she knew she was wrong. She blamed Regina for that, for everything she missed and every single painful thing she went through without her parents. But faced with this revelation, Emma realized that she had it better than Regina ever did. Because to have a mother who hated you, hated you enough to travel to another world for the sole purpose of destroying you... To have a mother like Cora... Surely it was better to have no mother at all.

"I don't need your pity, Miss Swan." Regina suddenly barked, and Emma realized that she had opened her mouth to say something Regina most certainly did not want to hear.

"Emma. My name is Emma. You said it last night. There's no going back now, Regina." Emma finally snapped. She could tell it surprised Regina by the way her eyes widened slightly. The brunette stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself as looked at anything but Emma. It was the first sign on hesitation Regina showed, and it tugged at Emma's heart. "I will talk to Henry. I'll tell him I was wrong and that you never broke your promise to him." She said by way of an apology. "He will want to talk to you. I'll bring him to your house and he can spend a few days with you." Emma knows she was over-compensating, but she knows it's the least she can do.

Instead of that rare smile of true happiness that Emma only saw once, Regina smiled sadly at her. Emma struggled to find something else to offer to Regina, but Regina shook her head slowly. "Emma." She never heard her name said like that before. The way Regina said it made her heart break and swell at the same time. She couldn't explain it, but she knows she wants to hear it again. Regina did not disappoint her. "Emma. It's better this way. I know my mother, and she will not stop until I have nothing left. And Henry is everything to me. I can't risk him just because I'm too weak."

Emma never thought that she will ever see Regina Mills break. She was wrong. The woman in front of her was nothing but a shell of woman who infuriated her and made her life hell. She was too distracted by the broken woman in front of her that her words did not registered right away. "Regina? What are you gonna do?" She asked, her feet automatically moving when she saw Regina move.

Regina turned to face her again, meeting Emma's eyes this time. She paused, making sure she had the blonde's full attention. "He was the happy ending I never thought I'd ever get. Take care of him, love him for both of us. Good bye, Emma."

Before Emma could even blink, Regina disappeared in front of her in a cloud of purple smoke.


End file.
